


The Wedding

by aconfederacyofscript



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 06:11:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3559034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aconfederacyofscript/pseuds/aconfederacyofscript
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma and Skye meet at Coulson and May's wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wedding

The lights are dim and the dance floor is quite literally packed with family, friends and colleagues. Jemma almost swears she sees Natasha Romanoff downing shots with Jane Foster, one of Jemma’s lab partners while Thor watches with an amused smile. 

Jemma isn’t sure if she’s ever seen Coulson any happier than today, which isn’t really odd, considering it’s his wedding. The odd thing, however, is May with a bright smile on her face as well. Jemma has never seen her eyes so alight and her entire demeanour so relaxed, but she melts just in Coulson’s arms like the rest of the world doesn’t exist right now.

She’s lost Fitz in the crowd a while ago, probably searching Mack, so she makes a beeline for the bar. Jemma starts to doubt whether going alone was such a good idea, but there’s little she can do about that right now. Plus, she’s seen plenty of familiar faces. There is no reason why a girl like her couldn’t go to a place like this alone. It’s a stupid rule, really. That you can’t go without ‘a date’. Jemma Simmons needed no man to keep her company. 

She sits down on one of the stools. “Hello. Anything with enough alcohol in it will do, really. Please,” she says to the girl standing behind the bar in a skin-tight dress. Her hair is pulled up in a comfortable but stylish ponytail, a few strands falling around her face. She’s breathtaking, but Jemma would never admit that. Not now. Not in her sober state at least.

“Oh shit… I’m not… I… don’t bartend,” the girl answers and looks at her like a deer in headlight. Jemma snorts. 

“I did not just catch you raiding the bar, did I? You’re kidding?” Jemma asks, but the other woman’s face doesn’t change a bit and her eyes grow wide. “Oh my god. You’re not kidding, you’re actually raiding the bar?”

“I didn’t think anyone would notice if I’d just sneak out a bottle of tequila.”

“You thought that no one would notice when you’re standing behind the only bar how?” A hearty laugh sounds from her throat and she rolls her eyes. “And where were you going to hide that lemon?”

“I don’t think I was thinking. I just wanted a drink that wasn’t on the menu. Anyway. I’m Skye and you totally busted me.”

Skye extends her hand, which Jemma shakes, and then she puts two beers on the bar top. “I’m Jemma. I believe I lost my friend. He’s probably off sneaking with his boyfriend, so I might as well just get drunk.”

“Ah, the bridesmaids get laid, right.” Skye flashes a devilish grin and raises her finger, asking Jemma to wait while she moves from behind the bar, flopping down on the stool next to her. 

“I guess you’re right. That does happen… I thought that only happened in sappy romantic films.” 

They get interrupted by the man in question, who has moved to the stage to propose a toast to ‘Philinda, may they grow old and grey together’, more of that mumbo jumbo and something about a monkey. The crowd cheers and Jemma claps, but falls short when she realises that Skye has leaned closer to her, their shoulders grazing.

“What’s it with Fitz and monkeys?” Skye whispers close to Jemma’s ear and a shiver runs down her spine. 

“It’s a science thing. Do you know Fitz?” She is surprised to hear that Fitz knows someone she has never heard off. Let alone someone this pretty. Fitz usually blabbed on about how many beautiful women he met that would be perfect for her. Not that she was implying that this woman was beautiful – which she was, obviously – or that Skye would be perfect for her – which probably was the case anyway – but she was still surprised to learn that she had never heard him say one word about her. 

“I have to admit that he invited me… for you.” Skye grins sheepishly at her and nervously fidgets with one of the rings she’s wearing. 

“Excuse me? Has he been playing cupid?” For a second Jemma doesn’t know what to say other than that. Fitz had asked if she really didn’t need a date, but she had politely declined because she probably knew everyone anyway. She would enjoy herself anyway. It would be fine. 

“I know… I know, that sounds like a really bad set up that also only happens in romantic comedies. I wasn’t going to go for that reason, but he was talking about you and you sounded really nice and I am good with computers, so I kind of stalked you on social media? And I thought why not see if she wants to hang out. So I crashed this wedding.”

“And then I caught you raiding a bar.” Jemma presses the back of her hand against her mouth to suppress her chuckle. She swears Skye turns another shade of embarrassed. 

“Yeah, well that wasn’t part of the plan. I don’t think I had a plan, but this definitely wasn’t it.”

“Do you want to start over?” 

“Nah. This is a good story when people ask how we met. I can just pretend I’m not an alcoholic and you can pretend like you were going alone to this wedding to meet new people. I can tell them I dragged you with me in my bad girl shenanigans and that’s how it went down.” Skye shrugs and a smile settles on her face. 

Her lips are a perfect shade of pink, quirking up at the corners. Skye’s cheeks are slightly rosy from the alcohol and the warmth in the room and she reaches out to tuck a strand of Jemma’s hair behind her ear. Another movie cliché, but butterflies settle in her stomach and she takes a sharp intake of breath when Skye’s thumb follows the soft curve of her cheekbone. 

“Can I eh… still be your date for the rest of the night, even though you have a very bad first impression of me?” Suddenly Skye looks nervous, not knowing if she crossed a boundary. The whole situation was weird to begin with, but this could just end like a train wreck if Jemma says no. 

But she doesn’t say no. A wholehearted “yes please” comes from her lips in that adorable British accent and Skye’s heart just thuds in her chest.

“Do you maybe want to dance? All the old ladies are still sitting at the bar and this is actually a nice song. This can be our song,” Skye jokes and Jemma shoves her playfully. “What, you don’t like Michael Bublé?”

“It’s fine.” Jemma holds out her hand, smiling happily when Skye reaches out for her and allows the scientist to drag her to the dance floor. 

Skye easily twirls the smaller girl around, wrapping her in her arms. Her hips sway gracefully with the music and Jemma can feel her mouth going dry, only half registering the song. Skye’s warmth radiates straight through their dresses and her breath feels hot on her cheek. Skye smells like vanilla and coffee, and it’s nice. It’s comfortable, even though she’s standing on high heels in a form-fitting dress on a party she didn’t want to attend at first. But now she’s glad she did go.

“Jemma?”

“Sorry, what?”

“You can let go now, if you um… if you want.” Her arms are draped around Skye’s shoulders, who still has her hands on her hips. They are at a perfect stand still in the middle off the dance floor, as if the music stopped, although it didn’t. 

“I don’t think I really want to.” Jemma blushes furiously and smiles shyly.


End file.
